


It's a Terrible Life

by CrashDevil (cjdevlin19)



Series: Best Laid Plans Series [18]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, F/M, Reader-Insert, a/b/o dynamics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-13
Updated: 2020-11-13
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:40:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27533911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cjdevlin19/pseuds/CrashDevil
Summary: The Winchesters don't know how to treat her but Dean Smith does.~~~~~~~~"The boys at Same like that dress?" he asked, quietly."The alpha I danced with last time seemed impressed.""Well, next time you wear it, that alpha wants to see how good it looks on his bedroom floor.""There’s rules against dating within the workplace. Guess that alpha's just gonna have to wait until I get a comparable position in another company.""You can't leave, Miss Colt. I need you." He chuckled. "Guess we're just gonna have to break the rules, huh?" He leaned down and ran his nose along your neck. “You smell so good, Y/n.”Your body flushed with heat as he set his hand on your thigh and started inching your dress up. “Dean,” you whispered. “We shouldn’t.”“Why? ‘Fraid your security guard is gonna get jealous if he smells me on you?”“Sounds like you’re the jealous one,” you whispered, grabbing at his wrist. “We shouldn’t do this because we’re at work.”“I’m pretty sure your boss won’t mind,” he said with a smirk.“But yours would.”“Adler can kiss my ass.” Dean’s lips brushed across your cheekbone. “Baby, I need you. I can smell how much you need me, too.”
Relationships: Dean Smith/You, John Winchester/You, Sam Winchester/You
Series: Best Laid Plans Series [18]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1526507
Comments: 8
Kudos: 33





	It's a Terrible Life

**Story Warnings** : angst...A/B/O dynamics, canon divergence, **18+! HERE BE SEX!! DON’T READ IF YOU’RE A YOUNG’UN!!!** , knotting sex, fingering, oral (fem rec), angst, mentions of physical violence, mentions of torture, mentions of forced marking, pining, mindfuckery, did I mention angst?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Christmas lights twinkled around the columns and along the gutters of the motel where you and John were staying. It was that rare downtime between the end of one job and the beginning of another and John wasn't looking for the latter yet. He said he could feel your heat coming, but _you_ weren't even feeling it yet so there was no way John did.

"John, you know how well I do without distractions, right?" you tried. "I need something to take my-"

"You need to relax, Y/n. We've been hunting nonstop since you found out about Dean and Alastair. You need a breather. Besides, it’s almost Christmas, you need to give yourself a present; rest." You rolled your eyes and rolled off the bed, picking up your laptop and opening it as you sat down. "What did I _just_ say?"

"I'm not looking for a job, John. I'm just looking at the scans Bobby sent me...about the connection I...have with...you guys."

"You asked Bobby? When?"

"When you were asleep two weeks ago. I told him 'no rush'. He sent it to me a couple days ago. It's just something to...look through. Don't worry about it, or me."

John groaned and pulled out his flask. "Let me know if there's anything useful in there," he said, taking a drink.

"That’s healthy," you muttered, pulling up your email.

"You're gonna lecture on healthy coping mechanisms while you refuse to slow down and deal with your problems?" John snapped, twisting the top back on.

"Exactly which of my problems can be _dealt with_ , John?" you asked, licking your lips and zooming in on the first page Bobby sent you. "The torture I endured in Hell, can that be dealt with? No, not really. I mean, it's not like I've got time for a strict regimen of shrinks and pills to deal with that Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Same goes for what your youngest son did to me and the fact that your oldest son, who I love with so much of my heart, is a big fucking bag of dicks. None of my problems are dealable so I'm not dealing. Which of your problems are _you_ dealing with using that bourbon?"

He shook his flask back and forth before tucking it into his jacket. "Right now? My prissy, obstinate omega giving me shit."

You rolled your eyes. "Yeah, well. I will take a break for my hard-headed, alcoholic alpha after I read this, okay?"

"Yeah. I'm gonna go get something to snack on."

He walked out as you focused on your screen. The scan was from an Arabic text on the sanctity of alpha/omega relationships and how the physical act of mating could be used to alter the soul. You didn't read Arabic, or speak it for that matter, so you had to go by the pictures and Bobby's half-accurate translation in the comments.

_An omega open (receptive?) of body can reveal her soul to her mate. Her heart may be claimed by hand to ~~~~ mind, body, soul._

That didn't help much, so you examined the pictures. You were sure the drawings would have been considered risque in a pre-porn age, but they were actually beautifully-done. A male alpha, with his omega straddling him, riding him. His hand was drawn over her heart in the first and when you scrolled down, you saw that he’d leaned up to kiss her in the second. His hand didn’t stray from her chest even in the third picture, when they were enveloped in light.

The motion seemed so intimate, so beautiful, so...familiar.

Your first heat with John. He encouraged you to try being on top, wanted you to have control...joked that he was too tired to keep up with your youthful energy. He’d looked up at you with such reverence, placed his hand over your heart and leaned up to kiss you as you came.

It was so glaringly similar to the night a week before Dean went to Hell, when he finally let his walls down a little and wordlessly pulled you to straddle his lap on the bed. No clothes came off, no words were said, just his hand on your heart as he made himself get okay with the fact that you were alive...and he likely wasn’t going to be much longer. When he leaned up and kissed you softly, you cried...but you still didn’t say a thing.

You pulled out your phone and dialed Bobby’s number. “Singer.”

“Bobby, it’s Y/n. I was finally able to read what you sent me. I’m having a bit of trouble with it.”

“It’s lookin’ like special circumstances and a right mind-state makin’ it where your soul is as claimed as yer neck.”

You closed your eyes and swallowed down a sudden pang of sadness. “And my soul being claimed, what does that even mean?”

“Means you’re connected to ‘im. He’s got a part of you and it gives him access to yer emotions.”

“And...is there anything in the lore about this kind of connection giving someone access to...each other’s...memories?” you asked, scratching at the back of your neck.

“Yeah. There’s a bit I found about an omega in Canvey Island, Essex, who was soul-marked. Her alpha came back from World War I and she had dreams of his time in the war.” You sighed and bit harshly into your bottom lip. “You gettin’ John’s memories, girl?”

“No,” you answered honestly. “It’s nothing. I was just curious. Thanks for this, Bobby. We’ll come see you when we’ve got a day or two.” You hung up and ran your hands up your face to rub at your eyes.

“Anything?” John asked as he walked in with a handful of chip bags from the vending machine by the office.

You looked up at him and nodded. “I don’t know the extent of it...and I don’t know exactly how but…” You flipped your laptop around to show the art to your alpha. “Our fourth or fifth time together, you…”

John sat at the table and scrolled through the pictures. “I remember,” he said softly. “And Dean?”

“Not the same way, but...this.” You tapped your finger against the picture where the alpha was kissing the omega with his hand over her heart. “This happened.”

“It’s very intimate, isn’t it? And reverent,” he said, reaching out to trace the picture. “He’s got her above him, holding her up as more important than him...and she has opened her soul to him or he wouldn’t be able to mark it.”

You sighed softly and looked away. You almost forgot, almost let your internal bullshit fuck you over. “Yeah. Reverent and intimate is exactly what I thought.” You looked back at him and reached out to caress his cheek. “Sorry I’ve been such a bitch, John.”

He smiled and reached up to run his fingers over the back of your hand. “I understand. You had to work through it.”

You smiled and leaned over to kiss him. “Thank you for letting me cope so poorly for as long as I need to.”

He bumped his nose against yours and pressed a quick kiss to your lips. "I've got bourbon if you want an unhealthy coping mechanism."

“Pretty sure I’m good for now,” you whispered, looking into his eyes. “You’re all the coping mechanism I need.” The smile he gave made his eyes shine.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next few months moved slowly, but almost artificially so. You passed the time with jobs, working research for other hunters when you weren’t on a case of your own. You found yourself hustling a lot of pool and John took a few jobs doing honest work...as ‘honest’ as under the table mechanic work could be, anyway. There was a time in January and February when you didn’t hunt for more than a month so you got a job as a maid for the motel where you and John were staying. It was almost nice to have a slice of normal that you never got before. It was no wonder that Dean wanted normal.

You came back from work and immediately headed to the kitchenette. John would be back from the garage at 6:30 and you needed to get something cooked for your alpha before then. Your phone was sitting on the counter, red light blinking to tell you that you had messages. When you picked it up to check it, your stomach twisted. A message from Dean, the first contact he’d tried since the rest stop. **Sam needs you** followed by **Its bad**.

You looked at the calendar on your phone. February 28. Sam was in rut. Your immediate reaction was to go to him. Your alpha needed you. Your alpha needed you and it was bad enough that Dean was messaging you. You slammed your hand down on the counter and growled in frustration. It wasn’t fucking fair!

You growled as you picked your phone up and dialed John’s number. "What happened?" he asked as soon as the phone connected.

“Sam...needs...I can’t," you started.

"Breathe, 'mega. It's gonna be okay." John's voice was soothing and you felt yourself relaxing as you took a breath. "Sam's in his rut?"

"Yeah. Dean said it's bad," you whispered.

“You want to go help him,” he said. It wasn’t a question.

“No!” you whined. “My _brain_ doesn’t, but...my body doesn’t want him to suffer through without me.”

“I understand, sweetheart. You get us packed and I’ll call the boys to find out where they are.”

You hated it. You didn’t want to pack. You just wanted to stay. You wanted the semi-normal you were cultivating. You wanted to stay.

You packed anyway.

John showed up at a little past 6:30 and threw your stuff in the back of the truck before you climbed into the cab. “They’re in Des Moines. He’s been violent with his brother, but Dean doesn’t wanna leave him alone.”

“Then let’s go. Sooner we get there, the sooner I can help him and then we can leave again.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You’re allowed to be nervous,” John said as you passed the ‘Des Moines City Limits’ sign. “And you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. Just being around you should calm his hormones.”

“He’s going to want more than just-”

“Like I said, you don’t have to.”

“Wish that were true,” you whispered. “Once I’m there...once I smell him...I won’t have a choice.”

John looked over at you with exasperation. “Then why did we leave Mississippi? If you don’t want to help him then let’s…” He sighed and pulled over into a Walmart parking lot so that he could park and turn to you. "Look, kid, I know you're confused. The omega in you wants one thing and the woman in you, the fierce and wonderful woman in you, wants the opposite. If you can ignore the omega and not feel bad about it, I will turn this truck around right now and we'll find something else to do."

You groaned and thudded your head against the window. "He's hurting and I can't...I wish I could but I can't just leave him in pain."

"I know." He reached out and set his hand on your thigh. "I know you can't but you need to remember that it's your choice. We could leave but you are choosing to stay, to spare Sam some pain. You're an amazing woman to put aside what you're feeling to help him."

You sighed and shifted across the bench to press your lips to his cheek. "Promise me you won't leave. When I'm with him, please...stay in the parking lot...please don't-"

"I will grab Dean and we'll be right outside, sweetheart."

"Okay. Let's go."

You were a bundle of nerves as John pulled into the motel and the door to #15 opened. Dean stepped out as you and John climbed down from the truck. He bit the inside of his bottom lip as John crossed in front of the hood and pulled you into his arms. You took a moment to relax yourself with his scent before pulling away and heading inside, purposely not looking at Dean as you passed him.

Sam was lying on his side on the far bed, curled into a ball as much as he could be, sweat covering him. You could see he was down to his boxers and they were clinging to him. His scent was overwhelming as the door closed behind you. Your mouth watered as your body flushed with heat. “S-Sam?” you squeaked as you forced your legs to carry you closer to the large alpha.

“Go away, Y/n,” he groaned. His voice sent a shock through your system. It was so full of pain and lust that you had to gasp. “Told Dean not to call.”

“He texted,” you defended quietly as you walked closer. “Said your...your pre-rut lasted almost a week...said you’ve been off for longer than that...said you’re hurt.”

He moved in a flash, rolling over off the bed and standing, looking down at you. His chest was heaving and the whites of his eyes were red. He looked terrible. “I’m fine. Get out before-”

“I can’t leave you to your pain...Alpha,” you whispered the title and it snapped something in him.

He grabbed your shoulders and pulled you to him, kissing you so hard your teeth dug into the inside of your lips. He moved to pull your jeans open, his hands shaking but still strong as hell. You wrapped your hands around his biceps to steady yourself as he yanked your pants down and buried two fingers in your cunt without a single warning.

“Tried,” he grunted, thrusting his fingers roughly in and out of you as his fingers got coated with your slick. “‘Member I tried.”

He twisted you around and bent you over the bed, his hand going to the nape of your neck and pressing your face into the mattress as he released himself from his boxers and set the head of his dick at your entrance. You squealed out loud when he thrust forward, sheathing himself in you in a single motion. He didn’t give you a chance to adjust before he was pounding into you, his alpha cock battering your cervix as his weight pressed into you.

One of your hands twisted in the scratchy comforter and the other reached back to grab at him. Anything to ground yourself. Anything to keep yourself from becoming a tiny puddle under the feverish alpha. Fuck, if Sam didn’t know how to play your body like a damn instrument, using his large body and huge cock to play a melody with your moans and whimpers.

Your hand gained purchase with his neck, nails digging into the skin at his nape as his knot started to inflate and catch at your entrance. “Alpha, please!” you begged.

“Gonna,” he grunted, moving his hands to your hips as he forced his knot into you. You could feel his cock pulse inside you as he filled you with cum. He panted over you for a few moments before he sighed loudly. “Shit, Y/n.”

You rested your forehead against the comforter and let out a sigh of your own. “You’re crushing me, Sam,” you let out.

“Sorry,” he whispered, pushing up on his forearms to hold himself up. “Did you…”

“No. It’s fine. Didn’t really want to,” you admitted.

Sam growled and threw his head back in frustration, the muscles in his arms tensing. “If you didn’t want to be here, why the hell did you come?” You tensed at the show of aggression and he hissed. “I could have handled this without you, ya know?”

You wanted to hit him but the current position didn’t allow it. “Not according to your brother, asshole. And it’s the position you forced upon me, Sam, to be drawn to you when you’re in this fucking state.” You shifted, hoping his knot was going down, but it just served to tug at you. “Where’s your demon bitch when you need her, huh? If you had her in your back pocket, why the fuck did I have to come to you? Why did Dean message me, knowing that I want nothing to do with your junkie, sadist ass or his _lying_ , sadist ass, to tell me to come?”

He growled and dropped over you again, his breath hot on your ear. “Ruby has nothing to do with this, Y/n. And maybe Dean messaged you because _he_ wanted to see you. Ever think of that?”

“Shut up,” you demanded quietly. Even _suggesting_ that Dean wanted to see you after everything, with how he treated you, it was cruel. “He doesn’t want-”

“You didn’t smell it?” Sam asked, an amusement in his tone as he nipped at the mark he put on your neck. You could feel his cock getting hard in you, even as his knot started to deflate. “He’s in pre-rut, Y/n...and he didn’t call you in until he started feelin’ his _own_ symptoms.”

You shook your head as he started rocking into you again. Dean wanted you there for Sam, not him. Dean didn’t want you. He hadn’t wanted you in years. He hadn’t meant to mark your soul and he didn’t want you. He wanted Lisa and he wanted Anna and he wanted pretty bartenders and bar girls and-

“This time, you’re gonna fuckin’ cum, ‘mega,” Sam demanded, pulling you out of your thoughts. “Say ‘yes, Alpha’.”

You moaned as he grabbed your hips. “Yes, Alpha.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The smell of French fry grease woke you halfway through the next day. Sam was gone from the bed and John was sitting at the table in the corner, pulling food out of a paper bag. You sat up and stretched your tired muscles. “The boys gone?” you asked.

“Nah. Just taking a drive. They’ll be back in a few.” John picked up a styrofoam cup and offered it to you as you rolled off the bed. “Dean wanted to give the room time to air out.”

You took a grateful sip of your drink, smiling at the fact that John got your favorite beverage as you sat at the table and grabbed several fries. You couldn’t help but think of Sam’s taunt about Dean’s pre-rut. “How’s Dean doing?” you asked.

“He’s okay. On the edge of his own cycle, but he’s unmated. It’s not gonna hit him as hard as Sam’s hit.” You focused on the food. Sam wasn’t right. Sam couldn’t be right. Not with how Dean had treated you. “Are you gonna talk to him?”

“‘Bout what?” you asked, before taking another drink.

John’s eyebrow raised. “The fact that he marked your soul, Y/n. Don’t you think he should know that tidbit, girl?”

You shook your head. “It’s not affecting him. He doesn’t even know we’re connected...and neither of us meant for it to happen so it’s best that he doesn’t know it happened.”

“How do you know it’s not affecting him? It might be. Maybe he feels-”

“He doesn’t feel anything, John,” you snapped. “Not for me. He...he doesn’t want me around. It’s...delusional thinking to hope that…” You shook your head at yourself and unwrapped your burger. “It doesn’t matter.”

John sighed and took a bite of his burger. “We’re gonna stick with the boys for a few days.”

Your eyes shot to his, widening. “Why?”

“Because I said so, ‘mega. Do you have a problem with that?” he asked, a hard edge to his voice.

“ _Yes_...I do, John. Sam’s rut is satisfied, we can go now.” You leaned forward, begging with your eyes. “Please, let’s go.”

“No. Hiding from Dean isn’t going to fix things. If things with the Apocalypse are really as bad as Dean was telling me last night, then we’re running out of time to say the things that we need to say.” John reached across the table and set his hand atop yours. “We’re going to stay, Y/n.”

“Fine.” You took a deep breath and pulled your hand from his, focusing on your food again.

“I know you’re mad at me, but you’ll get over it.”

“What’d Dean say about the Apocalypse?” you asked before taking a bite of your burger.

“Seals are opening up all over the place. Lilith is winning. Angels are dying. Alastair’s dead,” he said the last bit softly and you nodded.

“He tell you that he popped the first Seal?” you asked, not looking up at him. “That that’s the reason the angels tapped him to end it? Because a righteous man spilling blood in Hell was the first Seal and only the righteous man who started the Apocalypse can end the Apocalypse? Did he fill you in on that?” You shoved more fries into your mouth and hummed. “Not that I blame him, ya know? He didn’t know. He _couldn’t_ know that’s why Alastair was so insistent.”

“You dreamed it?” John asked, quietly.

You nodded. “Yep. Guess it’s a proximity thing. Stronger when I’m closer. Dreamed Alastair...Alastair in a new vessel, taunting Dean...then Castiel, in that same blue-eyed vessel with the floofy hair...confirming it. It’s why they saved him from Hell.”

“Yes, he told me.”

“Were you going to tell me?” You were having trouble trusting at the moment.

“I don’t know,” he answered honestly. “Not really mine to tell, sweetheart.”

“That’s a ‘no’, John. You can say it. ‘No, I wasn’t going to tell you because I wanted my son, who barely looks at you anymore, to tell you a terrible and hard secret which he would never have done’.” You licked your lips and pushed the rest of the food across the table away from you. “I’ma go take a shower. I feel gross.”

The water hid your tears of frustration and the sound of your sobbing, but you knew John could feel the pain radiating from your heart. It was easier when you were away from Dean and Sam. It didn’t matter that the world was ending when it was just you and John. It didn’t matter that time was running short. You didn’t care about resolution or the words left unsaid. You didn’t need to say them when it was just you and John.

You could smell the brothers in the room before you opened the door to exit the bathroom. Dean was definitely on the edge. You couldn’t stand it. You ignored the Winchesters as you grabbed your jacket from the floor and tugged it on your arms.

“Where you goin’?” Sam asked as you headed for the door.

“For a walk,” you answered, shortly. You moved quickly to leave the room before one of the alphas had a chance to stop you with the Voice, taking off in a run as soon as the door closed behind you.

You slowed to a walk when you felt you were far enough away. Not that anywhere was going to be far enough. Not really. Not with how stuck you were.

You found a bar and spent two hours nursing a single beer in the corner booth, lost in thought.

By the time you made it back to the motel, it was dark. The truck and the Impala were both still sitting in front of the motel, so you knew they were all in the room waiting for you. The smell of Dean’s rut hit you like a wall as soon as you opened the door, so you immediately started breathing through your mouth instead as you kicked the door shut.

"Enjoy your walk, Y/n?" John asked, not looking up from his gun which was in pieces on the table in front of him.

"Yep."

"Ya hungry?" he asked, running a cloth over a part as you dropped into the chair across from him and turned your eyes to the TV screen.

"Nope."

"All right." At least the man knew when not to push you.

There was silence as you watched what was obviously Dean's entertainment option of Jason X. You stopped fighting your desire to check on him and let your eyes find him on the closest bed. His cheeks were red, his face covered with a thin sheen of sweat, his hair clinging to his forehead, a look of discomfort in his eyes. You resisted the urge to look at his lap. You knew what you'd see there.

You hated that he was hurting but you also hated that you had to see it. You could be in Mississippi, making lasagna in a toaster oven, none the wiser, but no. Dean had to message you. John had to decide to stay. You had to stick by him so you had to stick by the other. It was not fair in the least. But you might as well be useful.

You reached down and untied your boots, setting them under the chair before standing and climbing onto the bed with Dean. You didn't say a word, didn't touch him, just turned over on your side with your back to him and closed your eyes. He took a deep breath of your scent and you could feel him relax behind you for a moment before he sat up.

"What the hell are you doin', Y/n?"

You just shook your head and stubbornly kept your eyes closed. He stared at you for a few moments before he flopped back down to lie on the bed. Sam settled on his bed, falling asleep easily, and John stretched out on the couch as soon as he put his pistol back together.

"Seriously, what the hell, Y/n?" Dean whispered. "You came for Sam and Sam is fine so you should just leave now. You should just pack up and get back to whatever you were doing before I texted you and-"

You turned over and pushed his shoulder before putting a finger to your lips. "Shhh!" You glared at him for a moment before rolling back over.

Dean stared at you for a long moment before he sat up again. "You don't want to be here, Y/n," he whispered. "You wanted to be away from me and Sammy. You wanted distance and you needed time to deal and I get that and I want you to have that too so why don't you pack your shit back up into that damn truck and get the hell outta here so we can all go back to acting like this isn't the most fucked up thing in a long line of fucked up things we're havin' to deal with lately and-"

You turned over, sat up, and slapped him all in one motion. "Shut _up_ , Dean," you whispered, intently.

He grabbed your wrist and pulled you forward, staring into your eyes in a way that took your breath. His thumb swept over the back of your hand as he leaned closer and your imagination played a movie of the kiss before it even registered that was what Dean was going for. You pushed your free hand into his chest and pulled away before his lips made contact with yours. "You're in rut, Dean. You don't actually wanna do that, it's just instinct. Go to sleep, asshat. We're both exhausted," you whispered before yanking your hand from his grip and lying back down.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Your alarm went off at 5:30 am and you were proud to only hit the snooze button twice before you sat up, stretched, and kicked off the covers.

Shower, coffee, breakfast on the go as you tried not to make a mess of your business casual dress on the way to the office. You smiled at the security guard as you walked into the building that housed Sandover Bridge and Iron and hazel eyes sparkled as he stood to greet you. He _always_ stood to greet you. "You gotta start going to bed earlier, Y/n. Lack of sleep ages you."

"You sayin' I look old, John?" you teased as he rounded the desk.

"No, I'm saying I want you to look this good for many years to come and the best way to stay young is to keep those circles off your eyes."

"But what if I'm staying up to have lots of fun? That's youthful, right?" you responded, taking a drink of your coffee.

"Lots of fun, huh? Without _me_?" he asked, pouting a little. "I'm heartbroken at the very thought of it, darlin'."

"Oh, come on! Gotta get my kicks somehow."

"Yeah, but if you keep spending your nights at bars, you're gonna end up with an unwanted mark on that pretty neck and that would be a travesty."

You ran your hand across your pristine neck and giggled. "Oh, come on, John! I'm only twenty-six. I've got _years_ before I settle down with an alpha."

"Uh-huh. You tellin' me you'd say 'no' if the boss man wanted to get his teeth in you?" he asked, just a hint of jealousy in his tone as you laughed and danced toward the elevator.

You didn't say a word as you pressed the button and disappeared behind the metal doors. A giant man in a yellow polo shirt got on at the second floor but you ignored him. He stunk like alphas do sometimes, too strong of coffee, and the way he stared made you cringe until you rushed off the elevator toward your desk.

Drop the coffee off, grab the file, knock on the door that says 'Dean Smith- Director, Sales and Marketing', wait for it.

"Good morning, Miss Colt. Come on in!" a voice that gave you chills.

You smiled as you pushed the door open and headed inside. Your boss was sitting at his desk, hair gelled into place, knot in his tie perfectly tightened, lilac shirt doing something special to bring out the freckles across his face. You had to physically stop yourself from swooning.

"Good morning, Mr. Smith. Here's the file on the Jennis account, you have a phone meeting with Sawyer Progress at 2:30 and Mr. Adler wants to speak to you before he goes home at 6."

He smirked as he took the file from your hand. "Thank you, Miss Colt. What would I do without you?"

"Crash and burn," you answered quickly.

He chuckled and set the file on his desk. "You're very right. I would be useless without you." Your cheeks heated up as he stood and looked down at you. "That’s a very nice dress."

"It's a favorite."

"The boys at Same like that dress?" he asked, quietly.

"I don't know. The alpha I danced with last time I wore it seemed impressed. It is such a good day/night dress."

"Well, next time you wear it out, that alpha wants to see how good it looks on his bedroom floor."

You smiled and bit your bottom lip. "Much as I love that idea...there’s rules against dating within the workplace. Guess that alpha's just gonna have to wait until I get a comparable position in another company."

"You can't leave, Miss Colt. I need you." He chuckled. "Guess we're just gonna have to break the rules, huh?" He leaned down and ran his nose along your neck. “You smell so good, Y/n.”

Your body flushed with heat as he set his hand on your thigh and started inching your dress up. “Dean,” you whispered. “We shouldn’t.”

“Why? ‘Fraid your security guard is gonna get jealous if he smells me on you?”

“Sounds like you’re the jealous one,” you whispered, grabbing at his wrist. “We shouldn’t do this because we’re at work.”

“I’m pretty sure your boss won’t mind,” he said with a smirk.

“But _yours_ would.”

“Adler can kiss my ass.” Dean’s lips brushed across your cheekbone. “Baby, I need you. I can smell how much you need me, too.”

“It’s nine in the morning,” you whimpered, but didn’t stop his hand slipping between your thighs to brush against your silk-covered lips. “You can’t wait ‘til after work?”

“Honestly? Feels like I’ve been waiting for years. Come on, Y/n.” His fingers slipped beneath the barrier of your panties and your grip on his wrist got tighter as the pads of his fingers found your bundle of nerves. "I need you."

You whimpered, moving to sit on the very edge of his desk, grabbing his dress shirt as he worked his fingers over your clit. "This is...oh, God, this is such a bad idea," you moaned as he started licking at your neck.

"You love it," he whispered into your ear. You nodded. You so fucking did. "Wanted to take you home from the club on Friday but your girls closed ranks."

"Sheila and Heather recognized you," you said on a panting breath. "You didn't even change out of your suit."

"I was meeting a client. Wasn't expecting to see you..." His finger slipped down to slide inside you all the way up to the knuckle. "...dancin' like you didn't have a damn care in the world."

Your eyes fluttered closed and your jaw dropped slightly.

"Can't believe I never saw you before then, sweet omega. Can't believe I never smelled you before."

"Sc-scent blocker wore off," you whined.

"I'd tell you not to wear it anymore but I don’t want the asshole at the security desk to know how fucking good you smell." He licked along your scent gland and you grabbed his shoulders as the pad of his finger found your g-spot.

"J-john's not bad, Dean. You should-"

He shushed you and covered your lips with his as he worked his finger in and out of you. You vaguely wondered whether your lipstick could stand up to a kiss like that as he pressed the heel of his palm into your clit. You were ramping up to what was sure to be an amazing orgasm when the phone behind you started ringing.

"Son of a-" he growled, pulling away from you.

You whimpered and stepped away as he reached over to pick up the receiver. You straightened your dress and sighed, looking in the mirror over the wet bar in the corner and wiping away a bit of errant lipstick.

"Dean Smith," he answered, only a bit of irritation evident in his voice. "Yes, sir, we've got the meeting set for-" He covered the mouthpiece with his hand as you started to leave. "Hey, don't leave."

"After work, Mr. Smith," you said, before opening the door. You heard him grumble for a moment before he apologized to his caller and went back to work.

You smiled as you returned to your desk. You should definitely feel wrong about messing around with your boss. And when you _thought_ about it, it was so bad and could go wrong in so many ways, but when you went with your gut...when you felt what you felt and didn't think...it was perfect.

You never believed in truemates until you got a good whiff of Dean Smith's scent. Why in the name of God did he smell so amazing? Oh and when he walked up to you at Same and asked you where you learned to dance like that? It was like something broke in you, some floodgate opened and if you had been alone instead of hanging with two of your friends from the office, you would have gone home with him that night.

You shouldn’t want Dean Smith so much, but you just couldn't help it.

At 5:30, you stood from your desk chair and knocked on Dean's door. "I'm heading out, sir."

"Dammit! Don't leave yet!" The door opened and he looked down at you. "Adler will be here any minute."

You chuckled. It was nice that he was so hung up on you, too. "I'll be at Same at 8, Mr. Smith. Assuming Adler lets you out of here...meet me at the bar." You winked before you walked away. You could feel his eyes following you until you disappeared behind the elevator doors.

You rushed home to shower, to change, to clean your scent blocker off and put on new makeup. You were determined to make it worth Dean's risk to take you home.

With your makeup on point and your dress skintight, you headed to the club. There were several friendly faces as you entered; women from work, men you'd danced with before, bartenders who let you shake your ass on the bartop because you were fun and good for business as long as you didn't get too drunk. None of them were the face you wanted to see. Dean Smith was your entire focus.

You bought a strawberry daiquiri and headed for a couch in the corner. You had a nervous pit in your stomach as you sipped the cocktail, but you were happy. You had never been so happy for the anticipation of something. An alpha like Dean was a dream.

"You work at Sandover, right?" a voice shouted over the music. Your eyes jumped to the owner of the voice, an alpha...the alpha from the elevator. He was wearing a red v-neck t-shirt and baggy jeans and his hair was tucked behind his ears. You cleared your throat and nodded. "Thought I recognized you. I'm Sam Wesson. I work in IT."

"Y/n Colt. I work for Mr. Smith in Sales."

"Don't know him," he said, stepping closer. "Look, I'm sure it seems like I'm hitting on you, but I just recognized you and-"

"She's spoken for, Man," another voice said and you and Sam both looked behind him to the newcomer. Dean was standing there, a slightly threatening look in his eyes and a smile on his lips. Your mouth dropped open at the sight of him. He was wearing tight blue jeans and a black button-down shirt with the top three buttons undone. He looked amazing. He stepped around the other alpha and dropped onto the couch beside you. He stared at the other alpha until the taller man nodded at you and turned around to disappear into the crowd.

"I'm spoken for?" you asked, taking a drink of your daiquiri.

Even in the neons and blacklights of the club, you could see Dean's cheeks turn pink. "I, uh, was just...I mean, not if...if you wanna be, you _could_ be. I want you to be," he stumbled over his words.

"Mr. Smith, I want to be." He smiled brightly at that and scooted closer to you.

"Good. I mean, I didn’t wanna assume, ya know. Just 'cause you let me kiss you in my office and invited me out for hopefully a hell of a lot more, doesn't mean that-"

You interrupted him with a laugh. "Dean, come on! Don't be ridiculous. I was gonna let you do a lot more than kiss me in your office." You leaned your head on his shoulder. "Don't worry about it."

"Shit, there's just something about you, Y/n. It's like…" He reached over and put his hand on your knee. "You're everything I didn't know I was looking for, omega."

Your heart soared at those words.

"I knew I was looking for you," you said. "I mean, I didn’t expect to find you at work but...handsome, intelligent, hardworking, ambitious...a scent like a dream. You're what I've been dreaming of since I was a little girl."

"No other alphas have been handsome and hardworking and ambitious? No one smells good but me?" He smirked as you sat up and took a drink.

"A few here and there, but they were just fun for a night, fun for a cycle."

"And what am I fun for?" he asked, biting his bottom lip.

You giggled. "God, I can't wait to find out." He smiled brightly as you reached over and took his hand in yours. “You wanna dance with me, Dean?”

“Think I probably proved last week that I’m not the best dancer.”

“I didn’t ask if you were the best dancer,” you said, standing and tugging on his hand as a dance mix of “Sweet Dreams” started pumping through the speakers. “I asked if you wanted to show every man in this club that you’re takin’ this little omega home tonight.” His eyes lit up at the prospect of showing you off as he stood and let you lead him away.

He _wasn’t_ the best dancer. There was nothing fancy about his moves, it amounted mostly to swaying and grinding and groping you in a way that seemed mostly like he was trying to mark you as his with his fingertips, but it was special and beautiful and it made you feel amazing. The two of you lasted twenty minutes before he had his lips attached to your ear, whispering to you about getting out of there, heading back to his place.

“Need you, omega. I’ve never needed anyone as much as I need you.”

You gave no resistance. “Same car or-”

“My car. Want you to play with yourself, make my whole car smell like that sweet fuckin’ pussy,” he said, pulling you away toward the exit as you fought down a whimper. That was just a bit dirtier than you were expecting from the sales exec.

You did what he said, sliding your hand under your skirt and playing with yourself until you were squirming and whining in the passenger seat of his Toyota, throwing off all kinds of pheromones in your scent. You were so aroused that you felt almost like an omega in heat, even knowing you were a month out. You could smell it in Dean’s scent, too; unmitigated lust.

You giggled as you followed him up to his condo, giddy at the idea finally getting to have him. He pulled you into a kiss as soon as the door shut behind the two of you and you started to unbutton his shirt before you even pulled away to breathe. His hands went to the zipper at the nape of your neck and pulled it down, allowing him to push your dress off of your body as you finished unbuttoning his shirt and started pulling at his jeans.

He walked you backward across his condo toward the bedroom, shedding articles of clothing as you kissed. When only your matching bra and panties were covering you, your hands went to his hair, breaking up the hold the gel had on his locks. He groaned into your mouth as he pushed his bedroom door open.

"Such a pretty fucking omega," he praised pushing you to lay on his bed. He pulled his bottom lip between his teeth as he let his eyes move down your body. "Look at you."

"Alpha," you whimpered, reaching for him.

"You want me, omega?" he asked, leaning over you and looking down into your eyes without touching you.

"Please," you begged.

You sighed happily as he let his hand move across your skin like he was mapping your body with his fingertips. He seemed to bring your skin alive, every nerve sparking. You buried your hands in his hair and pulled him into a kiss as he tugged your panties down your legs and tossed them to the side.

"Wanna taste you," he mumbled against your lips before pulling away and kissing down your body.

You never felt anything as good as his tongue teasing its way in between your slick-soaked lips. It wasn’t like you had never received oral, it was just that Dean Smith was an absolute master at it. He didn’t even need to finger you while his tongue and lips and teeth worked you over. You were squirming, rolling your lower half to get more of the amazing feeling, begging him for more. Begging for release and for his cock and for just a little, "More!"

"God, you taste so fuckin' _good_ , Y/n," he whispered as he climbed up your body, licking your juices from his lips. "I know you wanted to cum on my tongue, baby, but I wanna feel you cum on my dick."

You nodded excitedly. You wanted him in you. It felt like you were going to combust if you didn't get it.

He kissed your breath away as he lined himself up with you and slowly entered you, rocking his pelvis until his thick length was nestled within you. He pulled your bottom lip between his teeth and tugged on it. You grabbed his shoulders and dug your nails in as you set your knees at his hips and he started thrusting into you. You met almost every thrust, lifting your hips with the advantage of your leg placement. When he whispered, "Mine," in your ear, you almost came right then.

He was better than any other man you had ever had, beta or alpha. He was built and beautiful and his eyes shined like emeralds. You wanted it to never end...nut you also desperately wanted to cum. "Please," you begged in a drawn-out whine.

He pulled back and smirked down at you as he continued thrusting. "You need to cum, baby?" he asked and you started to nod pathetically, but he thrust hard and you squealed instead. "Or do you need my knot, omega?" You gasped as he leaned down to run his tongue over your scent gland. "Or do you think you need my mark, Y/n?"

Your eyes rolled back and you grabbed at his shoulder blades, scratching up his back. You wanted it. You wanted his mark so much, but something in you said, "No". Something screamed, "Dean doesn't want to mark you," so you shook your head. "Not yet. Not yet, Dean."

"Yeah. First time...probably too fast. But I fucking wanna mark what's mine. I wanna fucking show the world who you belong to."

"Not yet. Soon, Dean, not yet," you whispered as he grabbed your calves and pushed your legs up into your chest. "But I need your knot, please!"

"Give you whatever you need, Y/n," he promised. "Hold your legs up, baby. I need my arms."

You moved your hands to the backs of your knees and held them in place as he dropped his hands to the mattress on either side of you. The muscles in his arms flexed as he started to thrust harder, his hips a jackhammer pounding his cock into you. You could feel the thick ring of muscle at the base of him start to inflate and it felt like the absolute best thing in the universe. All you could do as he drove you higher and higher toward the peak was hold your legs up and moan.

He kissed you as he shoved his knot into you and you moaned into his mouth as you both came so hard that stars filled your vision. It wasn’t until you realized there was cum dripping down the crack of your ass that you recognized he had never put on a condom. "Shit," you whispered in a panting breath. "You never wrapped it up."

He shook his head, smiling slightly. "I'm clean."

"That’s...not what I'm worried about," you said, smiling up at him.

His smile broke out bigger as he popped up on his right arm and ran his left hand to your lower abdomen. "Don't worry, omega. I'll take care of you."

And you believed it. As he kissed you and caressed your skin lovingly, you believed it with all that was in you.

~~~~~~~~~~~

"I mean, he's been a bit weird since that guy killed himself in the office, but I mean...I saw the aftermath of that. It was terrifying, John." You twiddled your thumbs as you sat in the rolling chair behind the security desk. You came down for your lunch break to see the man. "He's been spending a lot of time with that big alpha from IT, though, and that worries me because he was growling about that guy at Same last week and-"

"Calm down, girl," John said, running his hands over your hair. "He's had a hard week. Hell, we all have. I know you’re worried about it but-"

"John, of course I'm worried. What if that IT guy got him into something...I don't know...illegal? Like prostitutes or...or drugs? I smelled that guy's scent in Dean's apartment! What was he doing there? Was he delivering-"

"Wow, you got it bad, don't you, Y/n?" John asked, smirking. "Hey, I'm sure it'll be okay."

"I do!" you exclaimed, burying your face in your hands. "I think I might love him, John."

"Well, I'm sad you're never gonna trade 'Colt' for 'Remington', but if you're happy with him then I'm sure you can make it work."

"He was weird last night," you said, sighing and sitting up straight, looking into the comforting hazel eyes. "He was obsessively trying to get his parents on the phone and I didn't...I…"

You gasped as a wave of nausea flowed over you, bringing with it your memories and an inordinate amount of physical discomfort. You ran your hands over your neck. Two bite marks and a thick home-surgery scar greeted you. "Oh, God," you whispered as John looked down at his uniform in confusion.

"What the hell happened?" he asked, reaching out to put a calming hand on your shoulder.

Pain rushed in to fill the parts of you not occupied by confusion and fear and you stood from the chair as your hunter memories and your Sandover memories mixed. "We need to leave," you whispered, your voice breaking.

"Sweetheart, I know this is-" John started, moving to grab your arm and turn you, but you twisted to glare at him with watery eyes.

"We need to get the hell out of here before Dean comes down because I can’t d-deal with h-him after...it's, uh, let's just go."

"We can't just leave when we don’t know what happened to-"

"Yes, we can!" you screeched. You didn't care that people were staring. They were nothing. "We can leave and we have to because he...he was…"

You couldn’t finish the sentence, but you knew that John could feel your pain. You knew he'd follow you as you pulled off your suit jacket and dropped it on the floor in the middle of the lobby. You needed to find the truck and you needed to find _your_ clothes and shower every bit of Dean Smith/Winchester's scent out of your nose. You needed to forget the way he'd spoken to you, the way he'd made love to you, the way he'd called you his.

You were lucky that John understood running away to get your head in the right space. He was with you before you even made it to the parking garage.


End file.
